Tales of Fake

This is something I haven't done in a while. I start without knowing how things will end and honestly, I surrender to the idea of not knowing. Just so that you can get the picture, I'm crying. My door's locked, my floor is filled with dirty clothes and I'm lying in my bed with the same clothes I've been wearing for hours now. Now that I've gotten past that, I move on. How? Like this: today I was putting on my jeans and I looked at myself in the mirror and I could barely keep myself from crying. How can you gather enough strength to pull yourself up when the thing that beats you down is your own reflection? Fuck, I'm screwed. That reminds me of something. As I went to this fucking workshop and I stared outside the bus, I started thinking and the only word that I could come up with was "damaged".